


the club

by maddy_does (favefangirl)



Series: carry on countdown 2020 [27]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Skiing, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/maddy_does
Summary: "No Simon, I don't think we should go skiing with my family this Christmas. You don't like extreme temperatures, and I don't like them. We should stay home instead and enjoy Christmas on our own this year, because we'll have more fun in our flat in London than we will have in the Alps with my extended family and our acquaintances from the Club," Is what Bazshouldhave said when he'd told his boyfriend about their invitation to his family's annual Christmas ski trip.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: carry on countdown 2020 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026733
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	the club

**Author's Note:**

> Carry On Countdown Day 27, Dec 21: Snowstorm

"No Simon, I don't think we should go skiing with my family this Christmas. You don't like extreme temperatures, and I don't like them. We should stay home instead and enjoy Christmas on our own this year, because we'll have more fun in our flat in London than we will have in the Alps with my extended family and our acquaintances from the Club," Is what Baz _should_ have said when he'd told his boyfriend about their invitation to his family's annual Christmas ski trip. He'd not attended himself since he was eighteen and had no inclination to break that streak this year, until Simon had turned to him with glossy eyes and waxed lyrical (as well as Simon could wax lyrical about anything) about a family Christmas in the snow. His father's invitation - which he'd only received because inclusivity was in vogue at the club now, and he wanted to flaunt how diverse his family was - he could say no to a million times over, Simon he could not.

He'd foreseen that it would be a disaster. The Club is archaic in its practices, everything is a well practiced tradition which Simon, as an outsider, had no hope of being able to understand. Baz found himself spending half his time trying to explain things to Simon, who looked increasingly lost in the dinner table etiquette, and the rules of skiing, and the various menus he couldn't understand. Baz had never been so tempted to say "I told you so" before. Still, he kept his patience as best he could because he actually did want Simon to enjoy this trip, even if he wouldn't.

The only solace to all this was getting to see Lamb again. He'd been fifteen when they'd first met, and a flirtation had grown between them immediately. It had progressed into a casual friends-with-benefits type relationship until Baz turned eighteen and decided that he had no further interest in the club or helping mould his father's reputation, and they'd parted amicably. Meeting again, he'd been reminded why he and Lamb had gotten on so well in the first place with their complimentary acerbic senses of humour, their morbid fascinations with the misery of their parents, and a mutual experience of the inside of the closet. Having Lamb to lean on between keeping Simon out of trouble and avoiding his parents at all costs had been a God send. 

Baz tried to stay patient with Simon but it was hard and more often than not he found himself snapping. When Simon used the wrong fork and the people across from them would snicker, or when he was the only person above the age of eight in the coached skiing classes, or when he mispronounced the names of items on the menu and accidently insulted the waiters. When people laughed at Simon they were laughing at him, too, and he'd never dealt well with that kind of attention. It wasn't Simon's fault he was hopeless at this high society lark given that he'd spent his life moving between care homes, and then living on the rougher side of London since he'd left, but that was easy to forget when Baz was burning with mortification because Simon had just called the waiter's mum a whore whilst trying to order dessert.

After one particularly embarrassing incident which had seen Simon take out a group of four year old skiing students on the slopes, Baz hadn't been able to take it anymore. He'd done the awful thing of ducking into the library on the resort which was almost always empty, and had found a secluded corner in the back where he could read Chaucer in the dim lighting and warmth away from the taunts of his father's friends, and Simon's kicked-puppy look every time he got something wrong.

He was really getting into the Canterbury Tales, when a shadow passed above him. He dropped the book to look up and see Lamb looming above him. "You wouldn't happen to be hiding, would you, Ty?"

Ty - a nickname from a lifetime ago when Baz had preferred Tyrannus. He'd corrected Lamb a million times while he'd been here, but he seemed dead set on keeping to what he knew so begrudgingly, Baz had stopped trying to convince him. Besides, he wasn't that mad at 'Ty', it made him think of simpler times, when he was a kid, here, causing mischief with Lamb.

"Slander," Baz denied with a grin.

"Chaucer was just that much more interesting than a morning on the slopes?" Lamb asked, nodding at the book in Baz's hand.

"Of course," Baz replied, tilting the book to observe the intricate illustration on the cover. "It's my favourite."

"I remember," Lamb sat down across from him, legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankle, leaning against a bookshelf behind him. "You were obsessed."

Baz looked indignant. "I was not!" Lamb presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows. "No more so than you with Merchant of Venice," Baz accused.

"It was riveting."

"It was gay," Baz countered, making them both laugh.

It was then that Simon rounded the corner, cheeks red and hair a mess. He looked stunning, testament that the cold suited him, even if nothing else here did. He looked between Baz and Lamb and his eyebrow twitched downwards. 

"Sorry to interrupt," he said formally, like a child trying to get the attention of a teacher. He turned to Baz and chewed on his lip before saying, "You said we'd have lunch?"

Baz looked at his watch and saw that the time was a lot later than he'd thought. He huffed and nodded, putting the book back on the shelf and standing up. He stretched his legs and then sighed. "Right, let's go," Baz said, nodding at Simon. "Are you joining us?" He asked Lamb as an afterthought.

Lamb looked at Simon for a moment before Smiling at Baz. "No thanks," He replied. "I'm gonna stay here, try and get so work done. But enjoy lunch and I'll see you around, Ty."

* * *

Worse than when Simon stuck out like a sore thumb was when he tried to fit in. Halfway through their second week at the resort, Simon decided that he was ready to ski with the rest of the adults, rather than sticking to the lessons. It was abundantly clear to everyone else that this was a horrible idea, but Simon was adamant, and no one was more stubborn than he, so Simon went to the slopes with the rest of the party. Baz's palms were sweating inside his gloves because this was not just a matter of Simon embarrassing them both, this was literally life or death. They reached the top of the slope and Baz and Simon made light small talk with two of his father's accountant friends - or, Baz did while Simon smiled and nodded and failed at trying not to look like he was completely out of his depth.

Then, once they usual questions of work and life were out of the way, they went to the edge of the slopes. The accountants waved goodbye as they set off down to the bottom, looking like grace and elegance personified, leaving Simon and Baz alone together at the top. The nervousness eating away at Baz's stomach was amplified now as he looked at how far down Simon could fall. He was about to turn and ask if Simon remembered how to do everything, when suddenly the man in question was off down the slope at full speed, seemingly without a care in the world for his own self-preservation.

Baz swore, and quickly set off after him, hoping to catch up with him and guide him to safety before he killed himself, or someone else. Halfway down, Baz began to toy with the idea that maybe Simon was going to be okay, after all, but he'd spoken too soon, as Simon let go of one of his poles and began to slide out of control. Baz growled and tried to speed up his own skiing to try and catch him in time. Almost at the bottom was when disaster really struck, and Simon fell onto his side and rolled the rest of the way down to the bottom.

"Snow!" Baz shouted frantically as he reached the bottom of the descent, skiing over to where Simon was laying in the snow.

"Yeah," Simon mumbled, sitting up unsteadily, and blinking up at Baz.

"Shit, you could've got yourself killed!" Baz admonished, sticking his own poles into the snow and reaching out a hand to help Simon up. When he stood up, Baz noticed that his skis had somehow come off his feet. He couldn't even begin to understand what had just happened. He was about to ask if Simon was alright when Lamb came over, seemingly oblivious to the events that had just transpired.

"Heya," he greeted with a smile. "Ty, fancy a race for old times' sake?"

"Uh, no thanks. I'm gonna take Snow to get checked out-"

"I'm fine!" Simon denied, even as he rubbed his elbow. "I'm gonna have a shower and rest." Baz watched as Simon began trudging off in the direction of their room, looking vaguely like Bambi in moon boots as he went. 

"So," Lamb pressed once Simon was off on his merry way. "Race?"

"I don't know. I still think I should go with him," Baz replied, not taking his eyes off Simon.

"His pride is probably more hurt than anything else," Lamb said. "Come on. You can go check on him later when he's calmed down."

Baz hummed, staring after Simon then sighed. "Yeah, you're right." He forced a smile. "Go on, then."

* * *

Baz spent the rest of the day on the slopes with Lamb feeling sixteen again in a way that, for once, wasn't stifling. As the day had worn on, they'd received warning of bad weather ahead and decided to call it a day. Baz was the overall winner, however much Lamb stated otherwise. He put away his skis and went to the room to go check that Simon had clamed down a little now, and that he was okay after the fall. When he got to the room, however, he was in for a shock when he found Simon grumbling to himself under his breath, packing a suitcase, limping a little as he went. 

"Snow?" Baz asked, closing the door behind him, brows furrowed. "What's going on?" Simon looked up from the t-shirt he was stuffing unceremoniously in the case, rolled his eyes, and went back about what he was doing. "Simon, seriously," Baz pressed, putting a hand over the suitcase so Simon couldn't stuff a pair of jeans in there along side the top.

"I'm going home," Simon huffed, batting Baz's hand out of the way. "I hope you have a good holiday but I don't want to be here anymore."

Baz's frowned deepened, and his heart started beating faster. "Why not?" He asked, a little petulant.

Simon lifted his head and glared at him. "I don't know, _Ty_ , maybe because I don't belong here and you'd be having a much better time without me to babysit."

"Hang on," Baz said, pressing a hand to his forehead as he tried to keep up with what was going on. "Are- are you jealous of Lamb? Is that why you're leaving?"

Simon had finished stuffing the suitcase full of clothes and tossed the lid over it. He zipped it quickly and lifted it off the bed. "I'm sure you'll be much happier once I'm gone." He huffed, still limping as he wheeled the case towards the door. "Merry Christmas," he spat, before walking out of the room.

Baz was trying very hard to process what he'd just walked into. Simon was leaving. Simon was jealous of Lamb. Simon thought that there could ever be a situation where Baz was happier without him in it. He suddenly went from feeling very anxious to very nauseous. He knew he hadn't been the best boyfriend to Simon this holiday, but he hadn't realised just how much he'd been neglecting him. Maybe he hadn't been quite so subtle in his embarrassment as he'd first thought. As he came to the end of his thought, it hit him that Simon had _packed his suitcase_. He was leaving - really leaving. Flying back to England without Baz!

He swore again and ran out of the room after him. He looked up and down the hallway and decided that left was the closest way to the exit and so ran that way. Simon was limping for Christ's sake, he couldn't have that much of a head start. He bounded down the hallway not caring about the gawks or snickers that followed as he went. He tried not to think about how if he'd just taken that stance to begin with, me might not have been in this situation now. He turned another corner at top speed and grunted when he collided with another body. He looked up and saw Lamb sprawled across the floor next to him where they'd knocked together.

"Have you seen Snow?" Baz asked before he could even apologise.

"Shit Ty," Lamb replied, rubbing his chest. "We're in the Alps, there's snow everywhere."

"No- Simon, have you seen Simon?" Baz clarified, getting to his feet and looking both ways up the corridor in case he caught sight of him.

"Christ Ty," Lamb sighed, also getting up. "You know I thought it was brilliant when you first brought him. He's absolutely hopeless, exactly the kind of guy to really stick it to your old man." Lamb's lip curled. "But I think you might actually be into him."

Baz frowned at that. "I love him," he said as thought that were obvious. "He's my boyfriend. He's not just here to piss my dad off."

Lamb sighed again and shook his head. "He's not our kind, Ty."

Baz took an involuntary step back at that, his own lip curling. "Simon might not be a part of the Club, but he's still worth ten of you, maybe even because of it." He pushed past him on the way to keep looking for Simon but stopped and turned around. "And it's Baz," he tossed at him. 

Lamb squinted and smirked at him, but he had no more time to be justifying his relationship, not when it was literally crumbling apart before his very eyes.

* * *

Baz searched the hotel until he couldn't think of anywhere else to look, then decided to return to his room, defeated. He hadn't even wanted to come on this damn trip, and now he was losing everything because of it. He'd spent most of the afternoon revaluating everything that had happened since they'd arrived, the way he'd pushed Simon aside and embraced Lamb as an old friend. He realised it was because the Baz that had left the Club at eighteen, and the Baz who had come on this holiday at twenty-three with his boyfriend were two very different people. He wouldn't claim to be a saint, not by a long shot, but being with Simon and their friends had helped ease some of his prejudices. He stopped walking into a room and seeing himself as the best person in there. He liked to think he was a little kinder, God help him.

He reached the room, down trodden, and started brainstorming ideas of how he could get back to England and tell Simon how stupid he'd been. Just as he stepped into the room, he stopped short. Sat on the bed, suitcase next to him, was Simon. "You changed your mind?" 

Simon shook his head and jerked his chin towards the window. The view was white-over with how heavy the snow was coming down. "Nobody's leaving until the storm clears, apparently." Baz hummed and pretended he hadn't got his hopes up. Simon squeezed his eyes closed and scrunched up his face before looking at Baz. "I'm sorry," he said. "About everything. I know you didn't want to come on the trip, I just felt like you had this whole life that I wasn't part of." Simon shrugged, picking at the fibres of the duvet.

"I don't," Baz denied. "I used to, a lifetime ago, but I've not been that person for a long time." He took some tentative steps forward towards the bed. "I just have the one life. The one I share with you." He was never usually so sappy, but he was running the serious risk that by the time he got home there wouldn't be anyone there to tease.

Simon looked up but couldn't quite meet Baz's eye. He extended a hand out, and Baz took it, sitting next to Simon on the bed. They sat for a while and watched the snow fall, Simon leaning his head against Baz's shoulder. It almost felt like everything was normal, when Baz thought back to what Lamb had said. He turned his head and pressed a kiss into Simon's hair.

"I don't care about any of them," Baz confessed. "Just you."

**Author's Note:**

> i hate this, actually, but i've spent the last two days working on my ballum advent calendar piece so i'm a little burned out and this is the best i can do :(
> 
> anyway, if you wanna leave a comment or a kudos they're much appreciated! especially let me know if there's something you think i forgot to tag! i'm really not sure about the rating?
> 
> i'm taking prompts! if you're interested please drop the prompt in the comments below. if you do send a prompt be prepared for me to take fifty years to fill it because school is so hard (or, i guess, uni now, lol), but i promise i'll try! come say hi on tumblr: [@maddy-does](https://maddy-does.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading, have a wonderful existence.


End file.
